I won't admit that I miss you
by tomoyohime8
Summary: we may never meet again in this lifetime, but you will always be with me. ClowXYuuko. my collection of one-shots submitted for the lj community, 30 kisses. *i have abandoned my 30 kisses, but i still plan on writing for this pairing in the near future.
1. 19 Red

Disclaimer: I do not own clamp – if I _did _… well I don't, so there isn't much point in wishing, isn't there?

Title: Gray

By tomoyohime8

She was gray, not black, not white, but the hazy, murky, indistinguishable color in between.

She could not be either, and it was her destiny to be neither and both at the same time.

Hitsuzen was her master, and it decreed that she abandon things like feelings and dreams.

Years and then decades and centuries went by, whirlwinds and pools of things she no longer could remember.

She was there, and yet she was not there, and everything was only just a part of something, and that dreams were only for those who were lucky enough to not be like her.

She was alive, but was not really living.

And then he came to her in a riot of red.

Red like wine on a hot summer night.

Red like freshly spilled blood.

Red like the moon on a lunar eclipse.

She hated him at first sight, as much as she could be allowed to hate anyone, she supposed.

He teased her and infuriated and exasperated her, invading every inch of her space and making it his own.

She hated him for his freedom, hated him for giving her a taste of what he was free to have and what she could only imagine.

She hated him who showed her that there was no such thing as gray, and that gray was only a mask that hid true color.

She hated him for showing her that she did not have to stay gray, that there was a whole myriad of colors within her reach, and that everything he had could be easily shared with her if she wanted to, if only she wanted to.

She hated that infuriating smile, the eyes that unmasked her, eyes that knew, and understood her, when she thought that no one could even _begin_ to comprehend.

She hated how he had easily broken down the boundaries she had put up long ago, making her feel again, making her _dream _again.

She had thought that she could no longer dream.

He had left her a long time ago, but ever since he met her her world had never been gray again.

Her soul had been stained red.

She dreams now, dreams of things to come, things that will be.

Everything was a part of something else but that did not mean that you only had to see the big picture.

It was not her destiny to be either black or white, but to be neither and both at the same time.

But the one thing ichihara yuuko had been able to learn from clow reed was that people make their own destinies, and that there was no such thing as impossible. He taught her that there was more to life than black and white and every color in the rainbow was hers for the taking, if she wanted them.

She was glad she met him, though she'd never admit it, because their meeting was not one of chance, and that everything that happens after that is either a direct or indirect result of that meeting.

There was no such thing as coincidence, after all.

There was only _hitsuzen_.


	2. 06 The space between dream and reality

Wait

Tomoyohime8

She sits in her favorite armchair, a cup of scalding hot tea in hand, and a cup of sake in the table in front of her.

She puts down the tea and drains the sake in one breath, feeling the numbness seep in, feeling the memories fade and the dreams begin.

She dreams of of worlds beyond the understanding of mortals, and dreams of things yet to come. She dreams of smoke and fog, of a young man with two colored eyes, souls linked by more than just a thread of fate, souls bound by something ageless and indestructible.

She dreams of cherry blossoms, thousands upon thousands floating in the breeze, and dreams of wolf cubs sleeping beneath the stars.

She dreams of all of these, and more.

But she does not dream of him.

She does not dream of him because dreams are realities waiting to exist, and he was a reality that no longer is.

Instead, she remembers, and she waits.

Because she knows, as sure as she knows that the old, leather bound book she had slipped into an used bookstore would be bought by a father of two children who had just lost his wife to an illness, that time is nothing, and soon everything that is will become what was, and that all that will be will become what is.

Everything is but a cycle, and soon it will be her turn on the wheel that is _hitsuzen._

_She dreams of a y__oung man__ with two coloured eyes, souls linked by more than just a thread of fate, souls bound by something ageless and indestructible._

Time is nothing to them and so she will wait.

Wait, and remember.


	3. 08 Our Own World

Forget

Tomoyohime8

The alcohol helps you forget.

Because when you are drunk, drunk, drunk and completely unaccountable for your actions, you could almost believe, or choose to pretend to, that in that moment, there was only him and her and nobody else.

Because when you're sober, the fact that the things mortals took for granted, things like love and family are but a distant dream becomes all too clear.

Because when you're coherent, seeing him play with the Mokona makes your heart fill with something you've got to suppress - and you grab that next bottle, because you know that things like that are just wishful thinking, and you know, better than anyone how much wishes cost.

Because in those precious few moments when you're in your own world, prices be damned and it all becomes about skin, skin and getting more skin, getting warm and getting high because you're certain that this is the only time you'll ever feel warm, ever feel real, ever feel sane, feel anything at all.

And then when it's over and he puts an arm around you, pulling you close and raining kisses down your throat, you shed the few tears you're allowed to shed, because you know that the price for your few moments of bliss is the knowledge of your imminent eternal loneliness.

And now he's gone and you're now completely, really, truly alone and that all you have left of him were her memories of him, of the smile that both infuriated and thrilled her, of the large warm hands that coursed through her like fire on silk.

And memories sometimes have the highest price of all.

The alcohol helps her forget, and in the few moments of incoherency, helps her to almost believe that he was still there with her, and not in some place she could never, ever reach.


	4. 21 Violence

Title: I hate you  
Author: tomoyohime8  
Pairing: yuukoxclow  
Fandom: crossover: xxxholic/ccs  
Theme: Kiss # 21 Violence;Pillage/ Plunder;extortion  
Disclaimer: I don't and probably will never own any of clamp's works. This is only my tribute to this pairing.

"I hate you."

"I'm hurt, Yuuko."

"All I wanted was to buy a few kegs of cider – you know that Salem makes the best! But _no, _you just ahd to go and get an entire town of witch hunters after us!"

"It's not all my fault you know – that man just wanted to ask you for a date. You didn't have to put him down that hard."

"He was an idiot. He even let me cut the price in half. I'll never get that cider now! It would probably have made great wine in a couple of centuries."

Clow pats her shoulder. She glares at him.

"I hate you – did you know that?" 

"You've mentioned it a few times, yes."

"You spoil everything."

Clow kisses her then, and she frowns. He thinks he can see her blush, but it might just be the wine taking effect on her.



"Don't think you're off the hook just yet. That mob will probably be back soon."

"Then we'll just have to make do with what time we have, shouldn't we," he says, before bending down to kiss her again.


End file.
